


Driving Home For Christmas

by telperion_15



Category: Primeval
Genre: Christmas, Cows, Established Relationship, Fic Exchange, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Snow and Ice, Stranded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-29
Updated: 2012-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-30 07:34:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The driving conditions on Christmas Eve aren't the best...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Driving Home For Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zoi_no_miko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/gifts).



> Originally written for zoi_no_miko as part of the primeval_denial Secret Santa exchange 2011, for the prompts 'Car (or bike) trouble' and 'Stranded in a cabin in a blizzard' (in the sense that, while there is stranded-ness, it's not in a cabin, and the blizzard happens off-screen!).
> 
> A note about OCs:  
> Primeval fandom on LiveJournal has generated a number of fanon OCs, created by different authors and freely used by others, to the extent that some of them have now taken on lives of their own. The one that appears in this fic, Lyle, belongs to fredbassett.
> 
> Thanks to fififolle for the beta.

  
Becker cursed softly as the 4x4 lost traction, sliding on the road surface for a couple of seconds before the tyres found their grip again.  
  
Danny resisted the urge to say something reassuring, and instead smirked, as was expected of him.  
  
“I can see that, Quinn,” snapped Becker, eyes fixed firmly on the road in front of them.  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Danny innocently. “But I’m happy to drive if you’re having difficulties.”  
  
Becker muttered several words that were unrepeatable in polite society, and Danny decided that he valued his life enough to pipe down and let Becker concentrate.  
  
It was just their luck that there would be an anomaly on Christmas Eve, and right in the middle of some of the worst winter weather the UK had experienced in years. At this point, the weather forecasters were virtually guaranteeing a white Christmas, but Danny (and, he suspected, the rest of the anomaly team) would have been more than happy to forego the picture perfect festive season if it meant they didn’t have to go chasing herds of hypsilophodon around in two-foot-deep snow.  
  
And then around about lunchtime there had actually been a slight thaw – the sun had come out, and everything had started to get a bit slushy. However, as afternoon had headed rapidly towards evening (if you could call four o’clock in the afternoon ‘evening’, even though it was already getting dark) the temperature had dropped like a rock, and everything that had been melting had frozen solid.  
  
Including the roads, which were doing a damn good impression of an ice rink.  
  
The anomaly had finally closed around six o’clock, thankfully with all the hypsilophodon on the right side of it, and there had been a general rush to clear the area so that people could enjoy what was left of their Christmas Eve. Somehow that had resulted in Danny and Becker packing up the last of the equipment, and not leaving the anomaly site until about ten minutes after everyone else.  
  
Which was how they came to be crawling their way along a deserted country lane, no cars in sight either in front or behind, while the bright beams of the headlights reflecting back off the sparkling surface of the ice only served to remind them exactly how dangerous driving was right now.  
  
If ever there was an example of the kind of conditions that resulted in ‘only travel if your journey is absolutely necessary’ warnings, this was it, Danny thought to himself. He wondered if the newsreaders who spouted such warnings would class incursion by prehistoric creatures as one of those ‘absolutely necessary’ reasons.  
  
Still, as they were in the middle of bloody nowhere, they didn’t really have a choice right now. Danny did _not_ fancy trying to bunk down in the car in this kind of weather, and he knew Becker would feel the same way.  
  
And hopefully, once they got back to the main roads, they’d find the gritting lorries had been out, and conditions would be better.  
  
Becker swore again as the 4x4 once more took it into its head to try and make a beeline for the hedge instead of staying pointing straight ahead, and Danny felt compelled to repeat his earlier offer, albeit in a less jokey manner.  
  
“Seriously, mate, if you need a break, just yell. You look tense enough to break rocks on.”  
  
“No, thanks,” Becker replied. “I’m fine. And besides, I think if I tried to stop right now we’d end up skidding straight off the road. Better just to keep go… _fuck!_ ”  
  
Danny only caught a glimpse of the deer in the headlights before it had leapt out of the way again. But by that point Becker had already stamped on the brakes, instinct obviously overcoming sense. His prediction came true instantly, the car slewing sideways violently despite the slow speed they had been travelling at. Becker wrenched at the steering wheel, trying desperately to keep them going in the right direction, but Danny could already tell it was a losing battle.  
  
The front of the car dipped downwards as they took a nosedive into the deep ditch between the road and the hedge. Danny was wearing his seatbelt, but even so he was throw roughly against the door panelling, hearing an ominous crack somewhere in the vicinity of his ribs as he hit.  
  
They came to rest in the bottom of the ditch with a surprisingly sharp jolt, whereupon the 4x4 let out a groan of protest, and every light on the dashboard winked out as the engine went silent.  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
“Ow,” proclaimed Danny to the world at large.  
  
“You all right?” Becker asked from beside him. He at least didn’t sound like he was in pain. Danny felt a trickle of relief slither through him.  
  
“Not sure,” he replied. “Give me a minute.” He steeled himself, and then tried shifting away from the door he had been thrown against. The crazy angle that the 4x4 had come to rest in made it more difficult than it should have been. He almost expected to feel the sharp jab of pain that would be the result of a broken rib – the cracking noise when he’d hit hadn’t sounded good at all – but he experienced nothing more than a dull throb down his side.  
  
“Just bruised, I think,” he said, knowing he’d got off lightly. “I’ll be a wonderful shade of black and blue tomorrow.”  
  
“Same here,” Becker said. “I banged my knees pretty hard against the steering column when we went down.”  
  
“But other than that…?”  
  
“I’m okay,” Becker confirmed.  
  
Danny looked around. With all the 4x4’s lights out, Becker was nothing more than a silhouette to his right. The moon outside was nearly full in the clear night sky, but nose-first in a ditch as they were, not a lot of its radiance was filtering into the vehicle.  
  
“So, what are we going to do now?” he asked. “I guess we’re not getting out of here any time soon.”  
  
“I don’t think so,” Becker replied. “We need to call for help. Hang on a minute.” There was some rustling as Becker located his mobile phone, and then… “Bollocks,” Becker cursed. “Battery’s flat. Bloody typical.”  
  
“Hold on, I’ll try mine,” Danny said. He delved inside his jacket, gritting his teeth against the renewed throb in his side as he manoeuvred, and pulled out his own phone. He pushed a few buttons but nothing happened. He frowned. He was sure he’d turned it on that morning. And he’d definitely charged it up last night.  
  
Then he slid his fingers across the casing, and realised immediately what the problem was. He could feel a spider web of cracks radiating out across the plastic. The phone obviously wasn’t going to be working again any soon.  
  
At least now he knew what the cracking noise had been. Not his ribs after all, then.  
  
“No joy?” Becker asked, obviously sensing something was wrong.  
  
“Nope,” Danny replied.  
  
“Shit,” said Becker, his language deteriorating rapidly.  
  
“The others will work out something’s happened though, won’t they?” Danny said. “When we don’t turn up back at the ARC, and they can’t call us.”  
  
“Yeah, and what’s the betting Lester refuses to let anyone mount a rescue in this weather? We’re incontrovertible proof that it’s dangerous out there, after all. Best case scenario, they’ll probably think we’ve holed up at a B&B somewhere to wait it out.”  
  
“On Christmas Eve?” Danny was sceptical.  
  
Becker paused, and then sighed. “Okay, maybe not,” he conceded. “But even if they do work out something’s gone wrong and come to look for us, they’re not going to be here for a while. We need to make sure we don’t freeze to death while we wait it out.”  
  
As soon as he said the words, Danny suddenly became aware that he was starting to feel chilly. They’d had the heater going full blast while they’d been on the move, but with the electrics currently out of action, the temperature in the car was plummeting quickly.  
  
“Can we get the heater going again?” he asked, more in hope than expectation.  
  
“I think everything’s dead,” Becker replied, but nonetheless a few seconds later Danny heard a clicking sound as Becker tried turning the ignition.  
  
But that was all he heard. There was no accompanying engine noise, and the dashboard remained resolutely dark.  
  
“Well, that’s that, then,” Danny said. “I suppose we’ll have to improvise.”  
  
“Let me guess, you mean by sharing body heat,” Becker replied.  
  
“If the idea offends you that much…” Danny began, faking indignation.  
  
“I’m sure I can manage to snuggle up to you if the occasion calls for it,” Becker said, his voice suddenly laden with innuendo and amusement. Despite their predicament, Danny momentarily flashed back to that morning, and the way Becker had woken him up. It was a pleasant recollection. Of course, that was before they’d got the anomaly shout, and the day had gone to hell.  
  
“It might be our only survival option,” Danny said, keeping his own voice ultra-serious. “After all, we wouldn’t want all our extremities dropping off through frostbite.”  
  
There was a moment of silence, and then they both snorted with laughter, releasing some of the tension in the car.  
  
“So,” Danny said eventually, “shall I come over there or do you want to come over here?”  
  
“I think we can do a bit better than just cuddling up,” Becker said in response. “I’m sure there’s something in the boot we can use.”  
  
Danny looked over his shoulder. The rear end of the 4x4 slanted up and away from him, pointing out of the ditch. “Great.”  
  
“Just stay there,” Becker said, “and I’ll be right back.”  
  
Without warning he opened the door on his side of the car, letting in a blast of freezing cold air. Danny didn’t shriek in shock, but it was a close thing. He was very grateful, however, when Becker slammed the door shut again after heaving himself out.  
  
The respite didn’t last long though. Three or four minutes later, cold air was suddenly filling the 4x4 again as Becker opened the boot, having managed to scramble around the outside of the vehicle.  
  
Danny listened to him rummaging for a moment, and then called back, “Found anything?”  
  
“Wait a minute…yes, I was hoping these were in here. Blankets,” he elaborated. “They’ll help. And here, put these on.”  
  
He chucked something over the back seats, and Danny felt it hit his head before dropping into the well that held the handbrake. Feeling around, he located a bundle that, when he’d undone it, turned out to be a pair of gloves. Quickly, he put them on. His fingertips were already starting to go numb.  
  
“Anything else back there?” he asked.  
  
“Not much,” came Becker’s voice. “Here, take the blankets.” A large bundle followed the gloves over the back seat, and this time Danny managed to catch it. “Apart from that, it looks like one of the lads left his coat back here, but that’s it. No, wait, there’s a torch too. Could be useful.”  
  
“We’ll just have to manage,” said Danny. “Come back in here properly before you freeze to death.”  
  
“I’m just going to take a quick look around first,” said Becker. “You never know, there might be a farmhouse or something nearby.”  
  
“I’ll come too,” said Danny, starting to move.  
  
“No sense in us both getting cold,” said Becker. “I won’t be long.”  
  
Danny thought about pointing out that he was already pretty bloody cold just sitting here, but Becker had slammed the boot before he could reply, and the next thing he heard was the noise of Becker pulling himself up the side of the ditch.  
  
There followed a tense few minutes while Danny sat in his seat and tried to resist the urge to get out of the car anyway and see what Becker was doing (although when he’d started making such a point of following the soldier’s instructions, he wasn’t quite sure).  
  
Becker’s reappearance when it happened made him jump. There was a sudden banging on the window, and Danny gritted his teeth against the resurgence of the pain in his side. The next moment, Becker was pulling the driver’s side door open again, letting in yet more cold air.  
  
“See anything?” he asked.  
  
“Maybe,” replied Becker. “There’s definitely a building of some sort a couple of fields away on the other side of the road.”  
  
“House.”  
  
“Not sure. It’s too dark to make out anything more than a general outline, and the torch wasn’t much help – it’s too far away. It looks quite large though.” Becker looked at Danny. “What do you think? Stay here and wait, or try our luck? I couldn’t see any lights, so even if it is a house I don’t think anyone’s home. But we could probably break a window and get in to use their phone or something.”  
  
“Is that a good idea?”  
  
“Lester and Jenny will smooth things over and pay for any damages, I’m sure.”  
  
“Oh, they’ll love that.” Danny chuckled. “You know, normally I’m the one coming up with harebrained schemes like this. I must be a bad influence on you.”  
  
Becker rolled his eyes. “Just make up your mind, will you?” he said.  
  
“It’s completely up to me, is it?” Danny said. He thought for a minute. “Let’s give it a go,” he said. “What’s the worst that can happen?”  
  
“We could traipse across two fields, get thoroughly cold, discover it’s a bust, and have to traipse all the way back,” Becker replied.  
  
You make it sound like such fun,” Danny joked. Then he waved a hand at Becker. “Move out of the way then. I’m coming out.”  
  
His own door was pressed against the side of the ditch, so Danny had to clamber over the handbrake and out of Becker’s door. His injured side twinged as he did so, but he ignored it determinedly.  
  
“You all right?” Becker asked, his sharp eyes obviously having picked up on Danny’s discomfort even in the semi-darkness.  
  
“Haven’t we already had this conversation?” Danny countered. “I’ll be fine.” He thrust the bundle of blankets that he’d brought out with him at Becker. “Here, you can carry these.”  
  
“Thanks,” said Becker dryly. Danny noticed that he was wearing the extra jacket that he’d found in the boot of the 4x4, the torch stuffed in one pocket creating a somewhat comical bulge. “You need a hand up the side of the ditch?”  
  
“No,” said Danny, and then proceeded to prove that he could manage perfectly well on his own, thank you very much.  
  
When they were both standing on the lip of the ditch, Becker pointed across the road to a farm gate in the hedge on the other side. “It’s through there and across the fields,” he said.  
  
“Well then, lead on, Macduff.”  
  
It was hard going across the fields. They’d been ploughed pretty recently, it looked like, but the earth had frozen solid in the cold, and was still covered in patches of un-melted snow. While this meant that at least they weren’t sinking up to their ankles in mud, it _did_ mean that they were instead having to traverse a slippery, hummocky surface, not the easiest terrain to move across. The torch saved them from tripping over the worst of the bumps, but that was about it.  
  
They made it across the first field, and found another gate that would let them into the second one. But it wasn’t until they were nearly halfway across that one that Danny started to get a sinking feeling. He could see the building that Becker had spotted more clearly now, and it didn’t look much like a house.  
  
“Fuck,” said Becker. “It’s a barn.” He turned to Danny. “Sorry.”  
  
“Don’t worry about it,” replied Danny. “Let’s take a look anyway. It might still be better than the car if we need to bunk down for the night.”  
  
The barn towered over them as they approached it, and they had to go round the other side to find the doors. When Becker shone the torch at the them, they found said doors were chained and padlocked, but the lock was pretty old and rusty. Becker was able to bash it apart with a rock he picked up off the ground. Danny winced as it gave way. It looked like Lester was going to have to fork out for some damages after all.  
  
Slowly, they pushed the doors open a few feet, and then made their way into the pitch-black interior. Becker played the beam of the torch around, and it splashed across a stack of straw bales, and next to them a great mountain of loose hay. It was warmer inside than Danny had expected, too.  
  
“Could be worse,” said Danny. “That looks like it might be comfortable enough. Better than struggling all the way back to the car, anyway.”  
  
“Shall we stay, then?” said Becker.  
  
“Stay,” confirmed Danny. “Then maybe we can find the farm that this belongs to in the morning if the others haven’t turned up looking for us by then.”  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
Becker’s bashed knees protested a little as he kicked the hay around a bit, trying to bunch it up as much as possible to make a comfortable mattress for them to lie on. It was hard to see much by the light of one torch, particularly as the beam was wavering around somewhat as Danny tried to hold on to it at the same time as shaking out the bundle of blankets.  
  
But he thought he’d done a pretty reasonable job, and at least it would be better than sleeping directly on the floor, or curled up uncomfortably in the one of the 4x4’s seats.  
  
The torchlight suddenly became steadier as Danny succeeded with the blankets. “How do you want to do this?” he asked. “Lay one over the hay and then the other over the top of us?”  
  
“I think so,” agreed Becker. “Otherwise we’ll have bits of hay sticking into us all night…”  
  
“Ssh!” Danny interrupted suddenly. “Did you hear that?”  
  
“Hear what?” Becker said, but then he did hear it. A noise coming from the other end of the barn, where they hadn’t yet explored. It sounded like something big moving around.  
  
“I’ll check it out,” said Danny, and he was moving away before Becker had a chance to argue.  
  
“Danny!” he hissed, but Danny didn’t stop. The light of the torch got further away, and then abruptly vanished, as if Danny had moved behind something.  
  
“Oh, for god’s sake,” Becker muttered to himself, and started to go after Danny, moving carefully because he _didn’t_ have a helpful torch to light his way.  
  
He almost walked straight into the partition wall that separated the end of the barn off from the rest of it. Only the hand held out in front of him stopped him from squashing his nose flat.  
  
“Danny?” he said quietly, and then, when Danny didn’t answer, “ _Danny!_ ” he snapped, exasperated.  
  
“Woooooooooooo…” The eerie wail was accompanied by Danny’s sudden reappearance. He was holding the torch upright beneath his chin so it cast strange shadows over his mournful expression.  
  
“I am the ghost of Christmases Past, Present and Future, and I am here to tell you that you should be nicer to Danny Quinn, otherwise you will regret it for the rest of your life…”  
  
“Oh, shut up, Quinn,” Becker muttered, not especially amused.  
  
Danny dropped the act, looking slightly disappointed. “Well, you’re no fun, are you?”  
  
“Did you find out what was making the noise?” Becker asked, ignoring Danny’s antics.  
  
“Oh, yeah.” Danny grinned suddenly. “Tell me, how do you feel about sharing quarters with a herd of cows?”  
  
“Cows?” Becker snatched the torch from Danny and pushed past him until he could get behind the partition.  
  
There was indeed a herd of cows. A small herd – no more than ten animals – but a herd none the less. One or two of them blinked at Becker in the light of the torch, but none of them seemed particularly bothered by his presence. Most of them appeared to be asleep, in fact, lying in the straw bedding that covered the floor of their – thankfully pretty sturdy-looking – pen. Becker thought to himself that at least this explained why it was somewhat warmer than expected in the barn – the animals were giving off a fair amount of heat in the enclosed space.  
  
“I quite like cows,” Danny announced from behind him.  
  
“You would,” Becker replied.  
  
“Don’t tell me you _don’t_ like cows?”  
  
“I like them on my plate at dinnertime.”  
  
“Oi, that’s mean!”  
  
Becker smirked. “Says the man who likes his steak to be practically still bleeding.”  
  
There was a pause, and then, “Fair point,” Danny said.  
  
Becker smirked again, and turned away from the cows. “Come on, Quinn, let’s go and make up our bed for the night.”  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
There wasn’t actually much more to do to their ‘bed’, save for checking that the blanket they would be lying on would protect them from pointy bits of hay. Once they had established that, Becker shrugged off his spare jacket, and then started stripping off his top.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
Becker yanked his t-shirt over his head, and looked at Danny. “Sharing body heat will be the best way to keep warm,” he said. “And it’s most effective if you lie skin-to-skin.” He grinned. “Come on, Danny, it’s not _that_ cold in here, and it will help, I promise.”  
  
Danny stared at him for a few more seconds, and then shrugged and started pulling off his gloves and jacket. “If you say so. And besides,” he smiled lasciviously, “it’s not like I have a problem getting naked with you.”  
  
However, the effect of his words was rather ruined by the hiss of pain that escaped his lips a moment later when he raised his arms above his head to pull off his own shirt.  
  
“What’s the matter?” Becker asked instantly.  
  
“It’s nothing, I’m fine. I’m just bit tender from where I got bashed in the car, that’s all.”  
  
“Let me see.” Becker picked up the torch from where they’d placed it on top of a straw bale to illuminate as much of their sleeping area as possible.  
  
“Really, it’s okay.”  
  
“Let me _see_ , Danny.” Becker advanced with the torch, and with a sigh Danny gave in and turned towards him.  
  
Danny hadn’t started to bruise yet, but even in the limited light of the torch Becker could see that the skin on his left side was red and – this was confirmed by Danny’s plaintive “Ouch” when Becker touched him – tender. Danny’s previous assessment that he’d be black and blue by the next day was quite obviously correct, although there wasn’t really anything they could do about it now save be careful that Danny didn’t put too much pressure on that area of his body.  
  
Still, Becker felt better for having assessed the damage for himself, even though he knew that Danny was now looking at him like he’d turned into some kind of mother hen.  
  
“Satisfied now?” Danny asked.  
  
“Not especially,” Becker replied shortly. “Just finish getting undressed so we can get under the covers. Otherwise we’ll start getting too cold.”  
  
“I thought you were claiming it _wasn’t_ that cold in here,” Danny pointed out, but nonetheless stripped off the rest of his clothes as quickly as his painful side would allow, and dived under the blanket, lying on his right side.  
  
Becker joined him quickly enough, facing Danny and wrapping his arms around him, bringing them close together.  
  
“While I can’t deny I was imagining something like this tonight, I had envisaged our surroundings a little differently,” Danny joked. “For a start, we didn’t have an audience.”  
  
“The cows can’t see us, Danny,” Becker replied patiently, rubbing his hands up and down Danny’s back briskly.  
  
“No, but they can hear us.” Danny leered at him, and Becker was about to express his scepticism about anything of _that_ nature occurring here when the other man leaned in and kissed him.  
  
Danny’s lips were slightly dry and chapped, but his mouth was warm as Becker slid his tongue into it, and for a moment he allowed himself to forget that they were in a barn, lying on a pile of hay and covered in nothing more than a thin blanket.  
  
“I’m sorry about this, Danny,” he said, when they finally parted.  
  
“It’s not your fault,” Danny replied. “Blame that deer. And the anomalies. And the bloody British weather!”  
  
Becker smiled at that, although the expression turned faintly incredulous when he felt something that indicated that Danny at least was _not_ so sceptical about getting lucky tonight.  
  
“Really?” he said. “Here?”  
  
“What can I say, cows just do it for me.”  
  
Becker resisted the urge to shove a knee somewhere tender, and merely sighed instead. Then he gasped when Danny shoved a – none too warm – hand down between them and grasped Becker’s cock. Which promptly decided that, despite the temperature and the surroundings, it would quite like to get lucky tonight too.  
  
“This is a bad idea,” he warned Danny.  
  
“And yet I don’t see you pushing me away.”  
  
“Serve you right if I did. Serve you right if I pushed you out into the cold and made you fend for yourself all night…” Becker’s words ended in another gasp as Danny twisted his grip on Becker’s now fully hard cock, sliding his thumb over the head in just the way Becker liked.  
  
Then he felt Danny thrusting lightly against his hip, and although his lover hadn’t said anything, Becker suddenly realised that this was turning into a bit of a one-man show.  
  
All his better judgement gone out of the window, Becker slipped his hand down and took hold of Danny’s cock, fumbling for a moment before he was able to match Danny’s rhythm.  
  
“Fuck yes, that’s good,” Danny murmured, bucking into Becker’s hand.  
  
They matched each other stroke for stroke, lips meeting again in a messy uncoordinated kiss as they tried to press as closely together as they could.  
  
Becker’s climax took him almost by surprise, and he groaned into Danny’s mouth as he thrust his orgasm into Danny’s encircling hand. His own come slicked his movements on Danny’s cock, and it wasn’t long before Danny was coming too, with a muttered curse and a full-body shudder.  
  
There was a long moment’s pause, in which they both got their breath back, and then Becker said, completely deadpan, “Well, that’s one way to get warm, I suppose.”  
  
Danny snorted with laughter and gave Becker’s spent cock another small squeeze before he drew his hand away. Becker became aware that they were both now rather sticky, and pulled a face.  
  
“I told you it was a bad idea, though,” he said, although his heart wasn’t in the complaint. “How are we going to clean ourselves up?”  
  
“Easy,” replied Danny. He stuck an arm out from under the blanket, flailed it around for a moment, and then brought it back holding what Becker recognised as the spare jacket he’d found in the boot of the 4x4.  
  
“Danny, we can’t use that, just use a corner of the blanket,” he protested, but it was too late, Danny had already shoved the garment under the blanket and was using its sleeves to wipe away their come. Becker silently vowed that he would wash it – several times – before returning it to its owner. Or perhaps he would just bin it and deny all knowledge of it ever having existed in the first place.  
  
“That’ll do.” Danny flung the jacket to one side again, and then pulled Becker close again. “Now, maybe we should try and get some sleep? Then we can be up as soon as it’s light and try and find some help.”  
  
“Who put you in charge all of a sudden?” Becker grumbled, but again, his heart wasn’t in it, and anyway, post-coital lethargy was starting to steal over him, making his eyelids droop. He wasn’t banking on not being woken up by the cold at some point during the night, but right now, he was fairly warm, fairly comfortable, and at least Danny was here. Things could be worse.  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
A loud banging noise, followed by some discontented mooing, roused Becker from slumber.  
  
“Come on, sleeping uglies!” came Lyle’s voice. “Better get up quick, otherwise you won’t have time to unwrap your presents. Although by the looks of it, it seems you might have done that already.”  
  
Becker blinked. Lyle was nothing more than a silhouette against the pale light coming in through the open barn doors, but he could still tell the other soldier was smirking.  
  
“I must say, I expected you here a little earlier than this, Lieutenant,” Becker said, his tone as icy as the weather outside still must be. He sat up as Danny stirred beside him, careful not to let the blankets drop too far, but nonetheless determined to prove that he wasn’t ashamed.  
  
“What time is it?” Danny muttered, as he sat up too and stretched.  
  
“Coming up on 6am,” Lyle replied. “And you want to try conducting a man hunt in the weather that came down overnight,” he added to Becker.  
  
“What do you mean?” Becker asked.  
  
“Snow-pocalypse doesn’t even begin to cover it, is what I mean,” said Lyle. “We nearly didn’t see your 4x4 in the ditch back there – nice parking, by the way – it’s nothing more than a vaguely car-shaped snow drift now.”  
  
Becker sighed. Technically he was Lyle’s superior officer, although you’d never know it from the way the man behaved. And Becker had long since given up trying to change him. If Ryan could put up with it, so could he.  
  
So instead of reprimanding the lieutenant for his informality, Becker scrambled to his feet, bringing one of the blankets with him so he could wrap it around himself, and trudged over to the doorway.  
  
If anything, Lyle had underplayed the state of the weather. Whereas the previous evening the snow had been patchy after the partial thaw, now everything was white, as far as the eye could see.  
  
“See what I mean?” said Lyle, grinning. “And now, if you’ll excuse me…” He pulled out a mobile phone and dialled a number. “Hello? Yes, sir, it’s me. We’ve found them. Put the 4x4 in a ditch and ended up sheltering in a barn overnight. Looks like they were quite cosy, actually.”  
  
“Bloody hell.”  
  
Danny had come to stand next to Becker, wrapped in the second blanket. He was shivering slightly, Becker noticed, and it took a fair amount of willpower not to put his arm around him.  
  
“Talk about a winter wonderland,” Danny continued. Becker could only nod.  
  
“Yes, sir, I’ll tell them. Merry Christmas, sir.” Lyle hung up the phone and grinned at them. “Lester’s not very happy with you,” he said. “He’s grumbling about having to pay overtime to those of us who had to put our Christmas Day on hold to look for you. Oh, and he says he’ll bill you for any damage to the car.”  
  
“Yeah, sorry about that,” said Danny, before Becker could speak. “We didn’t mean to ruin your Christmas.”  
  
“The lads will get over it,” said Lyle dismissively. “We’ve been in worse places during the festive season, believe you me.”  
  
Becker did believe him. He’d been in some of those places himself.  
  
“But if you want to get dressed, then perhaps we could all make tracks? Quite literally, in this instance. We might even get back in time for Christmas dinner.”  
  
Becker resolutely ignored the innuendo-laden tone that coloured the words ‘get dressed’, even as he heard Danny snort softly beside him. Turning, he went back inside the barn and started to pull on his clothes again. He heard Danny asking Lyle how they _had_ managed to conduct a search in this weather, picked up the words ‘requisitioned’ and ‘bulldozer’, and promptly decided he didn’t want to know any more. Lester and Jenny would smooth things over, he was sure.  
  
A very short time later, both he and Danny were dressed again (the temperatures didn’t encouraged lingering over that particular activity), and following Lyle out of the barn. The cows were still making disgruntled noises, and Becker sent them a silent apology as they left. Then he realised he was apologising to _cows_ , and wanted to bang his head against something.  
  
Getting back to the road was actually relatively easy, as Lyle and the rest of his team had managed to plough a walkway through the three-foot deep snow all the way across the fields. Becker spotted the bulldozer as soon as they neared the hedge lining the road, and rolled his eyes at Danny’s crow of “Fantastic!”  
  
Lyle laughed. “Climb up then. You might be a bit chilly for the first part of the journey, but once we get back to the main road the going’s a bit easier and you can transfer into one of the 4x4s. They can handle it from there.”  
  
They both clambered up into the cab of the bulldozer, and as Lyle followed and started the engine with a roar, Becker took the opportunity to put his arm around Danny, ostensibly to steady them on their perch.  
  
“Sorry for messing up Christmas,” he said quietly, under the noise.  
  
“You haven’t,” Danny replied. “We’ve still got most of the day left, and once we’ve had a hot shower and some food we can do some proper celebrating.”  
  
“And once you’ve seen a medic,” Becker pointed out, unlikely to forget the spectacular bruising that Danny was going to end up with.  
  
Danny pulled a face, but nodded. “And that.” Then he smiled cheekily. “Just think, if they wind me up in bandages, you really can have fun unwrapping your present!”  
  
Lyle laughed, obviously having heard. Becker didn’t push them both out of the bulldozer, but it was a near thing.  
  
It was the season of goodwill towards all men, he supposed.


End file.
